


harold, she's a lesbian.

by kaijumama



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Gen, Lesbian Character, abigail and girls otp forever, anyway, bc SHE DESERVES BETTER, charles is mentioned once, man its whatever i just wanted to write abigayl u kno..., nah but no shame if u ship that, there aint no abigail and band nonsense here, which means No Abigail/dethklok i just wanna make sure yall know that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-10 20:17:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10446540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaijumama/pseuds/kaijumama
Summary: abigail's gay and you cant fight me on this.a sort of madly self indulgent lesbian rambling fic. i can't even attest to its quality because the concept of abigail being a lesbian is just too happymake for me to take out my bias... sorry. ;~;normal "uncapitalized because capitalism is terrible" warning, as with all of my writings, aaaaa.





	

ever since school started for abigail, she and her mother had a fond saying each morning; “do your work, don’t kiss boys!” what started as a testament to abigail’s avoidance of cooties migrated to a personal statement, keeping her work before any sort of relationships. she had taken these principles to heart; in all her years of parenting, abigail’s mother hadn’t seen one mention of a male date. she even pushed the topic at dinner one night. “abby, dear… are there any cute boys in your classes?”

abigail made a face of disgust and shook her head. “oh, god no! they all smell weird, and don’t shave, but their ‘mustaches’ are terrible, and _eeuuuughhh._ ” she groaned. “i don’t understand how any of the girls at school can deal with it.”

her mother nodded, while her father laughed knowingly. “how your father turned out so capable is an absolute mystery.” she sighed, jokingly knocking him in the shoulder.

about junior year of high school, the lack of desire for male attention had been more relevant than ever. abigail wasn’t spectacularly popular or unknown, she had a fair amount of acquaintances, and she aimed for good marks, so those in her classes knew her fairly well. that is to say, when prom came around and abigail got requests for dates, it was not much of a surprise, nor was it a surprise when she denied them all. and it especially was not a surprise when the persistent chauvinists took her denial as a challenge, instead of her hand in theirs, dancing on the floor, they recieved her hand in a fist, with them on the floor. maybe the only surprise in that was how she was strong enough to knock big jocks down.

her first time in the principal’s office, abigail held an air of dignity; “sir, i felt very uncomfortable with his advances,” and while she debated with a good spirit, she needed her parents’ defence to get out of a suspension. on the last meeting, while her mother spat fiery maternal venom at the authorities, abigail sat alone with the secretary and one other girl. abigail had spent a good while looking at the other girl… whether she noticed, abigail would have no clue, but looking away was hard. whatever she was waiting for, just sitting there, she was beautiful. a white tee, ripped skinny jeans, lightly curled hair, a simple lip gloss… 

“abby? mr walters says you’re free to go.” her mother said playfully, imitating a prison guard’s voice. she pulled abigail up from the uncomfortable vinyl seat and pat her on the back. “try not to brutalize any more big scary jocks, now.” and from the corner of her eye, abigail saw the other girl smile. abigail thought about that smile for a very long time.

thinking about that incident, years later, it always made abigail laugh how oblivious she was. she spent many weeks afterwards growing more and more concerned with her lack of attraction; less out of fear of being abnormal or unhealthy, but out of irritation for an unexplained divergence. she had even blamed her mother for conditioning her from a young age not to desire boys. honestly, the only thing preventing her from linking together incidents of romance with red strings on the walls was that clutter made her anxious.

of course, the real reason hit her point blank over the head in the walmart grocery section, when a lovely lady employee offered assistance and abigail, so floored by the worker’s casual beauty, was tempted to say “ _oh, i seem to have lost my phone number, may i have yours?_ ” and, one can only entertain the idea of heterosexuality for so long after that sort of experience. when her mom picked her up from the store, without even saying hello, abigail blurted “mom, i think i’m gay.” the lack of surprise on her mother’s face was honestly more astonishing than her own realisation.

well, her mother gave her the good ol’ “homophobia is a very real danger” chat, but abigail, noting her mom’s motto never said not to kiss girls, ended up with a girlfriend after a month. they went on diner dates, and movie nights, and shopping for junior prom dresses together. her mother had jokingly asked if the ‘don’t kiss boys’ part of her saying was irrelevant now. “are you kidding me? it’s more relevant than ever!” abigail responded, grinning.

even abigail’s first breakup wasn’t very upsetting, much to her relief; they had mutually decided to end it at the end of junior year, since her partner had to go to washington over the summer, and neither of them fancied long distance very much. no, it was her fourth, and last, girlfriend whose parting truly messed her up. (and she hated to admit it, but that sort of emotional distress pushed abigail back into her relationship abstinence.) she still had the gemstone necklace she got on their first date, and for a while wouldn’t wear it as a testament of grief, ultimately deciding to utilize it as a testament instead to her steadfast nature.

now that she was working with this new band, where “not being gay” was a near top priority, abigail reflected often on herself and her identity. she didn’t consider being a lesbian was a backbone of her self, but it was a rather significant part of it. she’d be lying if the constant bromophobia wasn’t absolutely exhausting. charles suggested, sensing her discomfort, they may be putting on a show to attract the interest of a potential female partner (in such a very detached, scientific way, like he did with near everything involving attraction. abigail wondered if his disinterest was by his own choosing.) abigail decided that if they had casual fridays, she’d wear the most stereotypically lesbian outfit she could find.

**Author's Note:**

> nya. tell me what you think? if it's confusing at any point, i'd love to know. or any sort of whatevers you think i could improve on. ._.
> 
> thenx love u. <3


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